


Ringing Stinging Jerking Like a Nervous Bird

by orphan_account



Series: Drabbles [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, accidental porno, getting caught, little ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His dad takes the seat across. “Stiles, I may have done some digging.” Stiles blinks, still. “Through your phone.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ringing Stinging Jerking Like a Nervous Bird

Stiles is tap-tap-tapping away at his phone when, predictably, Derek climbs through his window and does a tuck and roll for good measure. He stands as Stiles says off handedly, “show off.” Derek grins and shrugs off his wet leather jacket and undoes his muddy boots before sliding into bed with Stiles. “You're wet.” Stiles wrinkles his nose.

“If you make a wet dog joke I will—”

“Rip out my throat with your teeth, yes, I know.” Stiles sets his phone aside and curls a hand against Derek’s jaw. “Here to ravish me like the sexual deviant you are?”

Derek huffs out a growl against Stiles’ hand. “Don’t do that.” He bites back.

“Do what?”

“Turn it into a joke, every time.” Derek replies, oddly tender. He raises his own hand to cup Stiles’ chin. Stiles gulps and stares unwavering back at Derek. “Okay?”

Stiles grins softly. “Okay.”

Derek pushes him back slowly, and slots their bodies together still clothed. Stiles keens into his mouth as hands wander fast and eager. Derek doesn’t spend time on frivolous movements, since each moment they have is stolen and quiet, rushed in Stiles’ bedroom or moments away from the pack.

Stiles feels something digging into his back, but the thought is far off as Derek’s hand slips into his pants.

—

“Stiles.”

He blinks, answering his dad’s voice with sleep-crusted eyes and a blank expression.

“Stiles.” His dad says again, a little firmer in his tone.

“Yeah dad?”

“You left your phone here last night.”

Stiles nods, scrubbing a hand over his face and staring at his cereal. “Yeah, sorry, I know you always want to get a hold of me.”

His dad takes the seat across. “Stiles, I may have done some digging.” Stiles blinks, still. “Through your phone.”

And just like that, Stiles snaps into focus. “Uh, yeah? Find anything interesting?” He chokes out a laugh.

His dad doesn’t say anything and instead pulls out Stiles’ phone. He scrolls—without looking,  _Jesus_ , he totally has Stiles’ phone memorized—and taps what Stiles reads as a ‘play’ button.

Debauched, breathless, wet slick  _dirty_  sounds fills the dining room. Stiles’ distinctly endless chatter except hitched with moans and the tell tale sound of a head board hitting the wall. Stiles looks mournfully at his ceral bowl and wonders if he could drown himself in the milk.

It only takes two inches to drown yourself, his mind pipes up helpfully.

It also only takes those first two inches of cock for Stiles to lose his mind, Stiles on the recording adds.


End file.
